


Caught Between Heaven and Hell

by TheQueen (FaustusianSutcliff)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Demon Sam, Implied Demon Dean, M/M, Platonic Destiel, Priest Dean, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam and Castiel are fighting over dean, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, implied angel dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:03:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaustusianSutcliff/pseuds/TheQueen
Summary: Dean Winchester never thought of himself as special. He never liked his ability to see a demon's true face. And instead joined the church as a deacon.Boy king of hell, Sam, takes an interest in the deacon and as a result, heaven has to get involved.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story that will be told like interconnecting one shots, that follows the growing relationship between Dean and Sam. This will contain a little bit of platonic destiel.

Dean grunted as his knees made contact with the hard wood floors of the church. He spat at the feet of the men before him and bit the inside of his cheek as he was slapped across the face. He tasted blood and spit. 

“You better act nicer,” one of the men smirked. “Wouldn't want to ruin that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Dean stayed quiet and didn't meet his gaze. 

“Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you.” He grabbed Dean by the hair and yanked so he had to look at him. 

“Bite...me,” Dean gasped and winced as the man shoved him and he landed on his back,his head bounced on the stone floor. 

A shrill whistle cut through the air and the men turned sharply. Dean raised himself to his elbows, vision blurry as he tried to make out the tall figure walking down the aisle. His vision cleared enough to see the men drop to their knees. They hunched over, retching, black smoke falling out of their mouths, until their bodies slumped. 

“Don’t. Touch me,” Dean leaned away as the man reached out to him. “You're one of them.”

The young man adopted an innocent smile. “One of what?” 

“Those demons,” Dean spat. 

“As smart as he is attractive,” the man chuckled. He looked at Dean, amused. His eyes going from dark brown to full black as he ran his gaze over Dean's battered form. 

“What gave me away?” He asked. “Unless,” he leaned in and his smirk morphed into an interested smile. His eyes crinkled in the corners. “You can see my true form can't you?”

Dean gave a stiff nod and tensed as the man reached forward, gently cupping his chin. 

“I knew there was talk of a priest able to see our true forms, but I never thought he’d be so…” 

“So what?” Dean asked, sharply.

“Adorable,” he smirked. “And tough. Gave my demons a run for their money...for a while anyway.” 

He moved his hand upwards, running a finger along his lips. Dean shuddered at the tingling under his skin. 

“I’m Sam,” he said, dropping his hand.

He sat on one of the pews, and laid his arms across the back and looked at Dean with his head tilted slightly. A few strands of hair fell in front of his eyes.

“Why are you telling me your name if you plan to what? Are you going to kill me? Torture me?” Dean asked. He stood up when Sam made no move to stop him. He crossed his arms over his chest as the demon ran his gaze over him once more. 

“Torture? Who do you take me for? Satan?” Sam asked, amused. “I was thinking something along the lines of debauchery.” He smirked again. “I've never done a priest before.” 

“And you're not going to now,” Dean growled. 

Sam laughed. “You think you can stop me? That's adorable.” 

Dean looked around and his eyes landed on the bowl on the altar. He picked up the bowl of water and tossed it at Sam. Sam growled and brought both hands to his face. 

“Holy water? Isn't that a bit childish?” he hissed, looking up. 

Dean dropped the bowl watching the skin burned heal over. Sam stood up and ran a hand through his hair smoothing it down. 

“I’m trying to be nice here, Dean.” His voice took on a clipped tone. 

He made it to Dean in two long strides, trapping him against the small altar. Hip to hip, leaning in as Dean leaned away, hands on either side of him, preventing his escape. 

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as Sam kissed him. One hand coming up to cup the side of his face, fingers curling under his chin.

He nipped at Dean’s lower lip, sucking. Dean kept his teeth clenched as Sam tried to ease his tongue into his mouth. He gasped at the slow roll of Sam’s hips against his own and felt his hot breath as Sam’s tongue slipped past his teeth. 

He unwillingly leaned into the kiss, begging his body to stop reacting to the other man’s touch. Sam rolled his hips again and Dean moaned softly, the noise swallowed by the kiss. 

Sam pulled away. Fingers still curled under Dean's chin, his other hand stroking Dean’s hip through the cloth of his shirt.

Dean tried to look away. He willed his body to do something. To grab one of the candle sticks and hit him with it. 

Sam smirked and leaned in again, barely brushing his lips against Dean’s. He shuddered as Sam pulled away. 

“I'll be back,” he promised. 

He snapped his fingers and was gone. The bodies of the other demons disappearing with him. 


	2. Two

“Hello Dean.” 

Dean straightened and turned, seeing Sam leaning in the archway of the garden. He traded in his suit for a pair of jeans and a flannel. He walked over and tsked as Dean reached for the shears on the ground next to him. 

He flicked his wrist and the shears embedded themselves into a nearby tree. 

“What do you want?” Dean looked back down at the weeds in front of him. 

“I told you I'd be back,” Sam answered. 

Dean swallowed the closer Sam got and saw him cross his arms over his chest, watching him. “Don’t stop on my account, you look so pretty on your knees.” 

Dean clenched his hands into fists and tugged sharply at the weeds.

“You don't seem like a priest,” Sam said after a while. 

“I haven't taken my vows yet…” Dean replied, automatically.

“Oh really?” Sam smirked. “Why is that?”

“None of your business Demon,” Dean spat. 

He stood up, collecting the gardening tools and turned to walk away. Sam grabbed his wrist and tugged. Dean let out a soft grunt as his back made contact with Sam’s chest. He swallowed, and shivered feeling the coolness of Sam’s body.

“I'd watch that pretty mouth of your Dean. How many Hail Mary's do you think you'd have to say to repent for sucking a demon’s cock?” Sam mused. 

“I would never-” 

“Don't say things like that,” Sam interrupted. He ran his free hand down Dean’s chest and nuzzled his neck.

Dean made a face as Sam licked his pulse point and squirmed.

Sam laughed softly against his neck. “Your body heats up nicely with the smallest of stimulation.” 

He released Dean and crossed his arms over his chest. 

Dean turned to say something and frowned a little when he saw Sam was gone. Just the faintest smell of sulfur in the air. 


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely long delay of an update. I'm currently in school at the moment so I'm a little scattered but there should be a fifth chapter in just a couple days or so. Hope you enjoy :)

“Dean, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Is there a problem Gideon?” Dean asked as the man walked over. 

“No, no, not at all Dean,” he answered. “There is a man on the phone who wants to know if you could come over and do Bible study with him once a week.” 

“Is he unable to come to the church?” Dean asked.

“He is not one for leaving his house,” Gideon answered. 

“Sure,” Dean nodded “I'd be happy to.”

“Excellent,” Gideon patted him on the shoulder. “He said you can start tonight if you're able.” 

“Of course,” Dean nodded. 

Gideon gave him a slip of paper with the address. 

“I’ll let the father know,” he told Dean. 

Dean thanked him and tucked the address away in his pants pocket. 

The sun was just starting to set as he walked to the man's house. He was in a good mood, no surprise visits from Sam,  _ the demon _ he corrected himself. He chided himself for being so chummy about the man,  _ demon. _

He finished with his chores for the day and began to pack up a few things for the bible study that night. He kept his clothing attire more casual. A pair of worn jeans and a flannel. The walk was relaxing. He had not seen  _ the demon,  _ for the past couple of days and was ready to pass the entire thing off as some horrible bad dream. 

The house he approached was one of the new townhouses that had been popping up all over their town. It was painted a light grey color with white shuttered windows. A well-kept garden in the front house with different herbs, he noticed and not flowers. 

Dean walked up to the house and knocked on the door twice when he didn’t see a doorbell. The door opened with a small click and he was met with a man slightly older than Dean, with thick black hair, bright blue eyes, and even-toned skin. 

He wore a simple light blue long-sleeved sweater with a pair of slacks and socked feet. 

“I’m Dean Winchester, I am the deacon they sent over to do bible study with you,” he flashed him a warm smile and the man looked him over and nodded. 

“I am Castiel. Please come in,” he opened the door wider to let Dean and shut it once he was inside. “Please remove your shoes.” 

“Of course,” Dean nodded and slid off his shoes and followed the man down the hall barefoot. “Will your wife or anyone else be joining us?” 

“I’m not married,” the young man told him. 

“Oh…” Dean nodded. “Sorry…” 

“Why are you apologizing?” He asked. 

He led Dean to the kitchen and motioned for him to have a seat at the kitchen table. 

“For bringing up a subject that could have been potentially awkward?” Dean gave him a small smile as he sat down. 

“It is my own choice,” Castiel added as he put on a pot to boil. “Are you married?” 

“No, I haven’t really found much time for dating…” Dean admitted as Castiel set down a small tray of cookies. 

“Your deaconship must take up a lot of your time,” Castiel nodded in understanding. 

“Yeah, but it’s better than going into the family business with my dad.” Dean cracked another smile. “But, we are not here to talk about my life.” 

“I don’t mind,” Castiel told him. He smiled a bit and Dean was taken back by how much younger he seemed. 

“Perhaps another time,” Dean told him. “Was there are a particular place you had wished to start?” 

“I was hoping today we would get to know each other,” Castiel added. 

Dean nodded a little. “Okay…” 

Castiel stood once the teapot began to whistle again and returned with two cups of hot water and set them on the tray with tea bags of various flavors. 

“Tell me about yourself,” Castiel said, once he was seated again. 

“There uh, there really isn’t all that much to tell,” Dean replied. He drank some of his tea. 

Castiel remained quiet and Dean sighed. 

“My...my mother died in a house fire when I was younger and a couple years after things with my dad got strained and he dropped me off with a family friend and I haven’t really seen him since…” he explained. “S’not exactly sunshine and rainbows…” 

“I am sorry to hear that,” Castiel frowned a little. “For what it’s worth, none of it’s your fault.” 

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right so...now you know me and it’s uh...getting late so I think it’s best if I leave. Thank you for the tea, and just let me know when you’d like to meet again.” 

“Allow me to walk you out,” Castiel said as he stood. 

“No...No there’s no need,” Dean politely declined. “You just enjoy the rest of your evening.” 

Dean walked to the front door and pulled on his coat and shoes before leaving the house and made his way back towards the church.

“Dean, how was the-”

“Went great, he’s going to call and set up a regular time,” Dean answered as he sped walk past him to his room. 

He shut the door and slid to the floor with a deep breath. 

_ None of it’s your fault,  _ repeated in his head. 


	4. Four

“Pay attention to me.”

Dean rolled his eyes and continued to place bibles in the pews. “I’m busy.”

“But I’m here,” Sam pouted a little and nudged Dean with his foot. “Let’s drink the communion wine.”

“Are you sure you haven’t already? It was a little light this morning,” Dean glanced up.

Sam looked at him with mock hurt. “Why Dean, I would never.”

Dean shook his head and picked up another stack of Bible’s as he walked along the aisles to place them in the pews.

“You’ve been quiet,” Sam noted. “Soul for your thoughts? Get it, soul, instead of penny?”

“Haha that’s so funny I forgot to laugh,” Dean deadpanned.

“That kills downstairs,”  Sam replied. He stuck his bottom lip out like a petulant child and Dean tried not to laugh.

“It’s nothing,” Dean repeated and finished placing the bibles along the pews.

“Clearly it’s something,” Sam pointed out.

Sam came up behind Dean and wrapped an arm around his waist. He held him in place and leaned in to brush his lips against Dean’s ear.

“I have ways of making you talk you know,” Sam murmured. He let his hand wander and squeezed Dean through his jeans.

Dean closed his eyes and licked his lips. He took a deep breath and raised his leg to bring his foot down hard on Sam’s.

The demon swore and let go of Dean. He dropped down into one of the seats to rub his foot. “What the hell.”

“I’ve told you not to touch me,” Dean said simply.

“It’s not like anyone else can see me right now,” Sam pouted again. “Fine, if you’re going to be pissy, I’ll just come back when you’re in a better mood.”

Sam stood up and fixed his coat, he turned on his heel and exited the church and made his way down the street. He slowed and a wide smirk spread across his face as he approached a small house.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Sam stopped at the voice and turned to see Castiel standing a few feet away. Sam ran his gaze over him and crossed his arms over his chest.

“What’s an angel doing down here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same question Sam,” Castiel answered.

“Me? I’m always known to be hanging around,” Sam shrugged. “What’s your excuse?”

“That is not your business,” Castiel answered.

He started to pass Sam, and he reached to grab Castiel’s arm. He felt the tip of his angel blade under his armpit before he saw it and gave Castiel a hurt look.

“After everything we’ve been through you pull a blade on me?” Sam asked. “I’m hurt.”

“I could stab you with it, if you prefer,” Castiel answered.

“Then you’d be left with a dead body on your hands,” Sam pointed out. “Let’s be civil about this Cas. I’ll buy you some coffee, we’ll have a little chat, no bloodshed necessary.”

Castiel eyed him critically. “You’re here for Dean aren’t you?”

“Dean who?” Sam asked. He blinked and adopted an innocent look.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Castiel pointed out. “Why do you want him?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sam answered. “Why? Are you interested?”

“He’s one of us,” Castiel answered. “Back off.”

“On the contrary, he belongs to me,” Sam replied. “So you back off.”

“He is not yours,” Castiel repeated. “Back off or I will be forced to intervene.”

Sam smirk. “Intervene? And what do you intend to do? I can play dirty all I want, you angels have got a bit of a rule book to follow don’t you?”

“I’ve been told to acquire Dean Winchester by any means necessary,” Castiel answered. “So it seems, my ‘rulebook’ has been thrown out the window.”

“You’ve picked up some mortal slang, not sure it suits you,” Sam mused. “But, in any case, I’ll win so you might as well resign yourself to the fact. Now, if you’re not going to join me for coffee, I’ll be taking my leave.”

Sam smirked as Castiel disappeared from view. He sat down on one of the empty pews and settled back to watch Dean set up for the evening service.

“If Castiel wants to play dirty, then I’ll just have to play even dirtier,” he smirked to himself as he ran his gaze over Dean’s form.

 


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a little tension~

“Thank you again for always coming over and doing bible study with me Dean, I appreciate it,” Castiel thanked Dean as he picked up their empty cups and put them in the sink. “I really, value our time together.” 

Dean smiled. “I’m glad, maybe, one Sunday you could come to our morning bible study. “I will be leading them starting this Sunday actually.” 

“I...Would like that, thank you, Dean,” Castiel returned his smile. “Maybe after the service we could get something to eat? I’d enjoying hearing your takeaway.” 

“I know a great diner,” Dean told him as Castiel walked him to the door. 

“It’ll be my treat,” Castiel added. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Dean protested. 

“I insist,” Castiel assured him. “Please.” 

“I...Alright,” Dean nodded. “If you’re going to keep insisting...“I’ll stop by before it starts and we can walk back to the church together.” 

“I will see you Sunday morning then,” Castiel nodded. 

Dean tucked his Bible under his arm as he left and began walking back to the church. Despite some odd feelings, in the beginning, he was starting to enjoy his weekly one on ones with Castiel. 

The more he got to know the man, the more he got to know him, the more he liked him. He used his key to enter the house part of the church and walked down the hall to his room. 

* * *

Dean frowned as he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair trying to get the strands to lay down flat and sighed when he realized they just weren’t going to listen. 

He walked over to his closet and pulled out his clothes to change, and turned to leave for the bathroom when he saw Sam stretched out on his bed. 

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Sam answered. “I wanted to see why.” 

“I’m not ignoring you. I don’t want to be near you. You’re a demon remember? Demons are bad, you’re bad, I want nothing to do with you, how clear on that do I have to be?” Dean told him. 

He held his clothes to his chest to act as a barrier as Sam got up and walked over him. “You shouldn’t trust that Castiel fellow. He’s not what he seems you know.” 

“Castiel is a nice man,” Dean countered. 

“Castiel is not who you think he is Dean.” Sam didn’t stop until Dean’s back was pressed against the door. 

“What? Jealous?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 

Sam slid his hands under Dean’s t-shirt and rest them on his hips. Dean swallowed as Sam leaned in, his lips ghosting against Dean’s.

“What would you do if I was?” Sam murmured. 

He peered at Dean through his lashes and smirked as Dean’s cheeks flushed the lower he moved his hands until they were on his ass. 

“You’re a demon,” Dean swallowed. “You can’t get jealous.” 

Sam chuckled. “Of course I can get jealous Dean. I can be jealous, I can be greedy, I can have feelings of desire.” He pulled his hands back and instead pressed against Dean. “I always get feelings of desire around you Dean. Can’t you tell?” 

Dean turned his head and Sam leaned in to nuzzle the crook of his neck. He playfully bit down on his throat and sucked. Dean’s lips parted in a soft groan and Sam pulled away just enough to place a hand on Dean through his sweats. 

“Feels like you’ve got some desire too,” Sam teased as he lapped at the mark he left. 

He slipped his hand into Dean’s sweats and wrapped it around his cock. One of Dean’s hands gripped his bicep but made no move to stop him. Sam stroked him to full hardness and slowed to long, even moments. He teased the head, feeling some pre-cum gather at the tip and spread it evenly along his length. 

Dean’s head fell back against the door and his grip tightened on Sam’s arm. He was shaking. Sam could feel his thighs flexing against the back of his hand as he went. His breath came out in short puffs against the side of Sam’s face. 

Sam watched as Dean’s eyes squeezed shut and he came in Sam’s hand. He had bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood and his body sagged against the door. 

Sam pulled his hand out and licked his sticky fingers as he let of Dean. 

“Tasty~” Sam winked as he sucked on his fingers. 

Dean felt behind him for the doorknob and quickly exited his room. 

“Dean, are you alright? You’re looking a bit flushed,” Gideon frowned. 

“I’m fine,” Dean gave him a smile. “It just uh, it got really hot in my room, I think the radiator is broken.” 

He hurried down the hall to the bathroom and shut the door behind him and turned the lock for extra measure. He turned on the shower and hissed as he stepped into the scalding water and didn’t step out until his skin was pink. 

Dean was relieved to find Sam gone once he returned to his room and got dressed.

* * *

“I really enjoyed your bible study, and the sermon today. Pastor Gideon is a very admirable man,” Castiel complimented as ate some of his salad. 

“He’s a great man,” Dean smiled. 

“Are you two close?” Castiel asked. 

“I was in a bad place before I decided to become a deacon,” Dean answered. “Things were not the best between my father and I...I guess could say I was running away. I met Pastor Gideon when I sort of just passed out in the church from too much drinking and he just took me under his wing after that. I owe a lot to him.” 

“Will you take over the church if he decides to retire?...Ah, forgive me, I must be prying,” Castiel picked up his drink to cover his embarrassment and Dean smiled. 

“It’s okay, to be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it, pastor Gideon has mentioned I could always join the priesthood, but I’m not sure if I could handle all of the vows you know? I might look into taking some classes and get ordained, but I’m happy just being a deacon for now,” Dean told him. 

Castiel nodded in understanding. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure he will support your decision...As will I.” 

Dean tried not to blush and took a bite of his burger. “Thanks.” 

Castiel smiled and Dean felt his cheeks get warmer. 


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a super long unintended hiatus, I am back!

“Someone’s been a busy little bee,” Sam mused from his reclined position on a lawn chair. He looked at Castiel from under the brim of his hat and let out a slow groan as he got comfortable. “Gardening a little hobby of yours or you hoping to woo Dean with a fresh bouquet?” 

“What do you want Sam?” Castiel pulled a few weeds and set them in the slowly growing pile next to him. 

“What makes you think I want something?” Sam feigned hurt. 

Castiel gave him a pointed look. “You always want something. In the entirety that I’ve known you, you have always wanted something. You wanted to be human, you wanted to be an angel, you wanted to see God-” 

“Total disappointment really,” Sam interrupted. 

“The point being,” Castiel wiped the dirt off of his hands as he stood. “You always want something. Now, what do you want.” 

“It’s not a matter of wanting,” Sam replied. “It’s a matter of need, as in, I  _ need _ Dean Winchester.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t let you have him,” Castiel said. “He does not belong to you.” 

“Not yet,” Sam smirked. “It’s only a matter of time before he realizes it.” He pushed himself to his feet and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And believe me, I’m prepared to do  _ anything,  _ to get what I need. After all,” he took a step back, “what former hunter could ignore of a poor defenseless possessed meat sack?” 

“You wouldn’t,” Castiel took a step forward and let the handle of his angel blade slip into his hand. 

“Watch me,” Sam smirked. 

He gave Castiel a mock salute and hoped the short fence beginning to make his way towards the small church. He spotted Dean outside, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbow as he talked to one of the elderly women who passed by every afternoon like clockwork. 

Sam ducked between two nearby buildings and began the short process of making himself appear more disheveled. He peeked around the corner and waited for the old woman to finish before he started to make his way over again. The last step, he unfolded the piece of paper that had been tucked into his pocket and read off the spell Rowena had given him to mask his real face. 

It would be a waste if the con over before it could even begin. 

Dean turned at the sound of his footsteps and looked ready to tell him off and Sam hunched forward hugging himself. 

“Yo...you have to..he...help me...h...he wa...wants to...to ki...kill me,” Sam stammered as he caused tears to roll down his cheeks. 

Dean looked hesitant. “Who?” 

“Th….the demon....” Sam answered. 

“Alright,” Dean started to wrap an arm around him and he bit his lip to keep from smirking as he made himself flinch. 

He was led into the church, past the pews, past the altars and through a side door and down a short flight of steps and into a kitchen. He pulled out a chair for him and Sam down keeping his arms wrapped around his body. 

“”What’s the last thing you remember?” Dean asked gently. He got him a glass of water and set it on the table. 

“My girlfriend...he...he killed her,” Sam closed his eyes. “There was so much blood...it was on my hands, and...and my clothes…” 

“Shh, it’s alright,” Dean reached over and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Sam froze at the feeling of Dean’s fingers stroking the strands soothingly. He leaned into it, he  _ savored  _ it. How long had it been since he’d felt this? 

“What’s your name?” Dean asked. 

“Sam...Sam Wesson…” he answered. “He…he makes me watch sometimes. When he kills someone...some...sometimes it’s another de...demon and he drinks their blood….” 

“Does he talk to you?” Dean asked. 

Sam shook his head. “N...No...I just woke up. I thought he was gone, but I can still feel him. Can you help me?” 

“I…” he seemed hesitant. 

Sam bit his lip. 

“Yeah, yes. I know someone who can help…” he ran a hand through his hair. “Just, wait here for two minutes.” 

“Don’t go,” Sam reached out to grab him again. 

“I’ll be right back, I just need to get my keys,” Dean assured him. “Drink your water.” 

Sam watched Dean go through again door and picked up the cup. He sniffed it and dumped the liquid into a flower pot, setting it back down just before Dean returned with a set of keys. 

“You up for a drive Sammy?” Dean asked. 

_ Sammy…. _ it sent a familiar shiver down Sam’s spine as he nodded. He offered Sam a sweatshirt, two big for Dean, but the right size for Sam. 

He pulled it on as he followed Dean outside to a sleek Impala, he brought the fabric to his nose and fought down the purr that threatened to leave him as he smelled Dean. He got in the passenger seat, as Dean jogged around to the driver side and got in. 

“Where are we going?” Sam asked. 

“See a friend that can help. A man named Bobby Singer,” Dean answered. 

Sam closed his eyes.  _ Fuck.  _


	7. Seven

**Seven**

Dean shot a look at the backseat at the, real "Sam", he guessed. He had started to fall asleep somewhere around the state line and Dean had pulled over long enough to get gas and "Sam" had gotten into the backseat using a blanket Dean had found in his trunk as a makeshift pillow. Dean's gut was telling him it was a lie, but the Hunter in him couldn't help but believe, maybe the kid really _was_ possessed and that'd make everything seem so much easier. A possessed kid he could do something about, a demon spending his waking hours trying to...Dean gripped the steering wheel as he turned. 

_ How many Hail Mary's do you think it'll take...?   _ That cocky smile and white teeth. 

He drove down the gravel driveway of Singer Salvage Yard and put the car in park once he came to a stop in front of the house. Dean turned and reached back to shake Sam’s shoulder.  His eyes flew open and he looked up at Dean.

“Are we there yet?” he asked groggily. 

“We just pulled in,” Dean answered. “Come on.” 

He got out of the car and waited for Sam to do the same then led him up to the front door. “Just, let me do the talking okay?” 

He knocked on the door and took a step back with both hands held up in a placating gesture as the older man answered the door. 

“Hey Bobby,” Dean gave him small smile. 

“Dean? Christ, come’ere boy,” the older man pulled him into a hug. “Your damn daddy told me you got killed in a hunting accident.” 

“No just...popped over to Blue Earth, Minnesota.” Dean chuckled. “I uh...I need your help.” He pulled back and shoved his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head in "Sam’s" direction. 

Bobby motioned them inside, Dean followed and turned when Sam hesitated on the doorstep. 

“Bobby’s a friend, he’s gonna help,” Dean told him. 

Sam stepped into the house and visibly swallowed, Dean turned and led him to the living room. “Sit on the couch, I gotta talk to Bobby for a second alright?” 

Sam nodded.  Dean walked to the kitchen and took the beer Bobby offered him. He took a swig and coughed at the salty taste. 

“Really Bobby?” Dean wiped his mouth. 

“Just being careful,” he took the beer and held out a knife. 

“I’m a not a demon Bobby,” Dean said even as he gripped the knife. “Look, it’s the kid alright?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Bobby asked. 

Dean went to the fridge and got another beer. “It’s...it’s a demon.” 

“He’s possessed?” Bobby frowned. 

“No,” Dean motioned for him to lean in. “He’s faking it alright? That is a demon pretending to some poor guy possessed by a demon. I don’t know how, but I know that’s what he’s doing.” 

“What makes you so sure he’s faking?” Bobby asked. 

“Because the same demon has been bothering me for almost a month and a half now,” Dean answered. “I don’t know why, so...I brought him here. You’ve still got that devil’s trap under the carpet right?” 

“And on the ceiling,” Bobby answered. “One way or another he’s getting trapped.” 

They walked back out to the living room and true to words, Sam was standing in the middle of the living room with his back to them, looking at the ceiling. 

“Devil’s trap on the ceiling, nice touch,” Sam said as he turned to face both men. “How’d you know?” 

“Know that you weren’t actually a possessed kid?” Dean asked. 

“Yeah, I always like to know what I get wrong for the next time,” Sam answered. “I mean, I used the spell that witch gave me so you couldn’t see my true face, played the whimpering scared meat suit, clearly you saw through it, so what did I do wrong?” 

“You bothered me for a month and a half then suddenly played victim,” Dean answered. “Should’ve gone the other way around.” 

Sam shrugged. “Live and learn.” He turned his attention to Bobby and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you gonna let me out of this thing or what Singer." 

“One exorcism coming right up,” Bobby said as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You exorcise me and you’re left with a rotting corpse,” Sam smiled. 

“What?” Dean asked. “You’re not possessing some poor guy?” 

“And listen to their insistent begging and whining? ‘Oh my god what did you do!?’ ‘don’t kill my boyfriend! Don’t kill my best friend! Let me out! Let me out!’ god no,” Sam answered. “Waited till he was dead, then possessed the body. He was some kid from California, going to be a lawyer or something, I don’t know. I played around in his life for awhile, his best friend went off the deep end and killed this guys girlfriend, sad really.” 

“How did he die…?” Bobby asked carefully. 

“Did I say he?” Sam asked. “I meant, me, I’m possessing my own corpse. Pretty cool isn’t it?” 

He flashed both men a white teeth dimpled grin. 

“Shit. That’s possible?” Dean asked. “Bobby is that possible?” 

“Yeah Bobby, is it possible?” Sam widened his eyes in faked curiosity. “Yes, it’s possible. Honestly didn’t your father teach you anything Dean? Or are you not John Winchester’s little soldier?” 

“You shut up,” Dean took a step forward and Bobby grabbed his shoulder. “And don’t you dare talk about my father.” 

“Why? You were his soldier weren’t you?” Sam asked. 

“Dean, outside,” Bobby said before Dean could speak. “Now, before I kick you out.” 

Dean huffed. “What the hell do you know? You’re just a demon.” 

He slammed the front door behind him as he walked outside and braced his hands on the hood of the Impala. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. He said a quick prayer under his breath and sighed as his shoulders relaxed. Like someone kneading the tenseness out of them. 

He picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts and paused on Castiel’s number. He pressed call and brought the phone to his ear. 

“Hello?” He answered. 

“Hey Cas, it’s me, uh Dean.” He told him. 

“Dean, is everything alright?” Castiel sounded concerned. 

“Not really,” Dean admitted. “But, I don’t want to take up your time. I called because I’m not going to be able to make our bible study tomorrow, probably won’t be there on Sunday either. I’m visiting some family right now.” 

“Of course, I understand,” Castiel replied. “Dean, everything is going to be alright, and you’re going to be alright.” 

Dean chuckled a little and kicked a small rock. “Thanks, Cas, that makes me feel a bit better.” 

“Have fun with your family Dean. The apples in my garden finally came in, I’ll make you a pie when you get back,” Castiel told him. 

“Apple pie? I can’t wait,” Dean smiled. “Bye Cas.” 

“Goodbye Dean.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in the span of a couple days! Thanks for the Kudo's :)


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting to get into Sammy's background~

**Eight:**

 

“Here,” Dean practically thrust the plate of food at Sam. 

“You know I don’t need to eat right?” Sam asked. 

“Fine, then I’ll take it,” Dean answered as he started to pull away. 

“Wait…” Sam sat forward on the small cot and dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s something to do.” 

Dean held the plate out and Sam, after a little careful maneuvering of the chains wrapped his ankles, stepped up to take the plate from Dean. He resisted the urge for an ‘accidental’ brush of fingers. He’d much rather have those fingers in his hair and sat back down. 

Sam picked up the burger and took a bite. “This isn’t fast food,” Sam said around his mouthful. 

“No shit,” Dean replied. “I made it.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow and swallowed. “You made it?” 

“What? Did you think I was all kneeling in front of an altar? I know my way around a kitchen,” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in the doorway. 

“Clearly,” Sam took another bite. “Why did you bring me food?” 

“I’ve a few questions,” Dean answered. “Thought I’d share a metaphorical olive branch.”

Sam picked up a french fry and was reminded of the way Ruby would cover hers in ketchup. He popped it in his mouth. 

“Metaphorical olive branch being a literal burger?” Sam smiled. 

Dean looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but didn’t. “Why are you here?” 

“You and your uncle chained and then locked me in here,” Sam answered. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Dean pointed at him this time. “You, you stopped demons from killing me, then turned around and what? Decided you wanted to have sex with me or something? What did I do to warrant that?” 

Sam picked up another french fry. “I’m a demon, do I need a reason?” He licked his fingers. “Oh come on Dean, surely you’ve been approached before. I know you’ve  _ indulged.  _ Maybe not since you’ve become a man of the cloth.” 

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and curled his fingers into the fabric of his flannel. Sam smirked. 

“Or maybe you have,” he mused. “What do you get up to Dean Winchester? Or rather,  _ who _ do you get it up for?” 

“Certainly not for the likes of a  _ demon _ ,” Dean replied. 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Sam asked. “Again?” 

A muscle in Dean’s jaw ticked. Sam watched him walk out of the room and slam the door, the locks turned before they clicked into place and Sam picked up another french fry. 

He could wait.

* * *

 

“Are these really necessary?” Sam held up his cuffed wrists. 

“You wanted to see some sunshine, this is how you get to,” Bobby Singer answered. 

Sam leaned back on the porch railing and watched Bobby clean his guns. “Where’s Dean?” 

“Went back,” Bobby answered. “Not that it’s any of your business.” 

“So? What? I’m supposed to just stay here?” Sam asked. “I do have things to take care of, Hell isn’t run on the souls of the damned alone. No doubt Crowley’s trying to start another uprising and then there’s Lucifer. Leave him alone for a week or two and he starts planning another family dinner.” 

“Boohoo,” Bobby rolled his eyes. 

Sam walked over and dropped down into the chair next to Bobby’s and reached for one of the beers between them. 

“You know, we don’t need to eat, and we don’t need to drink, but you and Dean keep offering me food and drink,” Sam answered. “And you’re not even spiking it with holy water.” 

“Some part of you in there is still human ain’t it? Be a shame if we were to let it starve,” Bobby said. 

“I’m a demon,” Sam snorted. “None of me is human.” 

“It’s funny you mentioned Crowley,” Bobby said as he cocked the gun. “Spoke to him, earlier, give’em a nice glass of Craig and he sings like a canary.” 

Sam set the beer down. “Give him anything, he’ll sing.” 

“Talked about you quite a bit,” Bobby continued. “Said you were part of a little pet project, something called Special Kids?” 

“Children,” Sam corrected automatically. “Special Children. Made by Azazel, where did you plan on going with this little story?” 

“You ain’t a real demon are you?” Bobby asked. “Gotta get by drinking demon blood, gallons of it from what Crowley told me.” 

Sam felt a muscle in his jaw tick. “So what? You think there’s an ounce of humanity left in me?” 

“I’m thinking, let’s see what happens when we cut you off from that supply,” Bobby answered. 

Sam licked his lips. “It’s about as pretty as trying to turn a demon back to a human. I’ve drunk too much, it’s a part of me…” He looked down at his wrists and took a deep breath as he gave Bobby a wry smile. “Whether I like it or not.” 

A sickening crack filled the air. 

Sam stood slowly and tossed the handcuffs aside with a limp flick of his wrist. “Thanks for the beer Bobby. I’ll let Crowley know you send your regards.” 


End file.
